The Fallen
by A.B. Trerron
Summary: A dark role reversal in which Joker is obsessed with Dr. Quinzel. Joker eventually develops what he calls "feelings of love" for her - that doesn't mean they're healthy or that he's in any way romantic. He's still a complete psychopath.
1. Joker's Angel

Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own the Joker or Harley Quinn. All credit to DC Comics for Batman in general and Christopher Nolan for The Dark Knight.

"I fell out of Heaven, to be with you in Hell"

-The Raveonettes, 'Lust'

Joker wasn't a man who kept too many memories floating around his skull. He was a man of action, of impulse, a man who weaved together bits and pieces of what might have been the truth and filled the holes with whatever else came to mind. But he would always remember, clear as the cut from a freshly sharpened switchblade, the first time he caught sight of His Angel.

He'd been at Arkham maybe three days, he wasn't sure, his clothes replaced with scrubs; make-up, dirt, and grease washed clean. Trapped like a monkey in a zoo, nothing to do in his cage but twiddle his thumbs until it was decided whether he could handle the common room. He was so fucking bored, he thought about whipping it out and jacking away the next time an orderly walked by.

But it was _her_ who walked by. Natural silvery blonde hair pulled back in a bun, cool pale skin, gray-blue eyes the smallest bit too wide, chin a bit too pointed. Little wisp of a thing, maybe 5'0", 5'2" at most, barely a handful of tits. She just looked so… fragile. Like a porcelain angel. And there she was, wandering around the bowels of Hell, gazing around at all the demons like she was a little girl picking out a fucking puppy to take home and love.

And oh how he wanted the little snow white angel to pick him, to invite this particular demon to her sanctuary so he could pin her to her altar and defile her. Not forcibly, he decided. Where, after all, was the fun, the sport, the satisfaction in that? No, it had to be of her own will; she would beg him to desecrate her, beg him to satisfy her carnal need, beg him to make her as corrupt as him…

He had always been good-looking, knew he still was in spite of the scars. So, when she wandered casually over to his cell, he brushed his green-tinged dirty blonde curls to the side and fixed her with a reptilian stare that clearly stated "I am going to devour you." Her breath hitched unexpectedly at the realization that he was penetrating her with his dark, circled eyes. As soon as she made eye contact with him, he broke his gaze only to noticeably inspect her from bottom to top, then slide the corners of his scarred mouth upward, letting her know he liked what he saw. Fireworks went off inside his chest when he saw a deep blush creep into her pale cheeks and her hands begin to shake.

And then -- she smiled back. It was a small, uncertain smile, the kind you make out of helplessness, when you're not sure what else to do, and it made the blood rush straight to his dick. He blinked a few times and touched the thick glass of his cell, dropping some of his dangerous stance and inviting her over to play. She moved closer. Close enough he could read her badge: **Dr. Harleen Quinzel, Intern, Arkham Asylum**. Harleen Quinzel. Harley Quinn. Harlequin. It was so perfect, he almost laughed aloud. Oh, if there had been any doubts before, now the little angel was his for the taking.


	2. Mine

2. Mine

"Make no mistake, you shan't escape

Tethered and tied, there's nowhere to hide from me"

-Portishead, 'All Mine'

No, he couldn't remember his name. Yes, she could most certainly call him "J" since it was "so much more personable". Maybe he _was_ abused as a child. Oh yes, of course that was where his violent tendencies had developed - it made so much sense now! She really had him figured out; he'd never met someone as insightful or as smart or as kind as her. Oh yes, he'd much prefer to call her Harleen. Did she know she reminded him of his poor dead mother, his guardian angel, the only person who had ever really loved him and then she abandoned him, left him all alone when his father - the bastard - murdered her, and now that he had finally found another woman who really understood and could help him would his beautiful Harley just wind up abandoning him too?

These silly preliminary mating rituals had been going on for three months, and now that they were out of the way, it was time to get down to business.

Joker was taking his meals in the cafeteria with the other kids now, like a big boy. Funny thing was, the other kids didn't want to play in his sandbox. It might have had something to do with his ever-so-slight overreaction to Jonathon Crane's exceptionally rude behavior toward His Angel.

It really was Crane's fault. _He_ chose to eat his lunch beside the raging psychopath. _He_ chose to catcall the raging psychopath's doctor, then imply she had slept her way to promotion in front of the raging psychopath… Now, how was it the raging psychopath's fault he went from wholly calm to dragging Crane over the table by his shirt and sticking a fork to his neck?

Dr. Quinzel decided to hold an "emergency session" (as though it was actually an emergency) so her patient could address the situation.

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Doc? Let that creepy little girl-boy call _my_ doctor a whore?"

She sighed and put her clipboard down. "J, as chivalrous as your intentions may have been--"

He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "No one questions _my_ doctor's honor. You're a saint and nothing less."

She blushed and slowly took her hand back. "We may need to do more work on your, uh, coping methods."

"Look Harl, let's pretend for just a tick that you're not seeing me because of my criminal record. Let's pretend you're with me because, oh I don't know, we're an item."

"J, that's inappro--"

He held up a hand. "Now, hey, just listen. We're dating. We're painting the town red together. And some cheese-dick rolls up, pinches your tush, and asks if you wanna suck his dick later."

"That's not a likely scenario."

"Look, just hear me out. Now what am I as a decent man supposed to do? Tell him to go ahead and have at you when I'm done?"

She stared at him.

"Bastards like that need to be taught a lesson in manners. I mean, if I don't defend my lady's honor, I'm just as big a prick as him!"

"J, that's not the point."

"Oh yes it is. You've helped me cope with all the neuroses I buried and that's well and good, but I won't budge on this one, Doc. You're just gonna have to put up with this gentleman's chivalry."

He fixed her with his dark eyes.

"I care about you, Harl. No other man's gonna talk about you that way, nobody! Not while I'm here."

She let her hand wander to her patient's scarred cheek, caressing the demon that sat before her.

"You are a gentleman, J. No man's ever been as protective of me as you. Just… try and tone it down, okay?"

The corners of his mouth twisted into a sly smile.

"Anything for _my_ angel."


End file.
